


Forgettful

by izziisabouttoenditall



Category: Batman - All Media Types, Red Robin (Comics)
Genre: Angst, Bruce Wayne is a Bad Parent, Character Death, Damians a little shit, Depression, Gen, I love Tim so much, Non-Canonical Character Death, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide, Tim Drake Angst, forgotten, he is just the best angsty boi, kind of, lonely, middle child problems, that's underplaying it really
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-07
Updated: 2019-09-07
Packaged: 2020-10-12 01:24:27
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 680
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20555915
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/izziisabouttoenditall/pseuds/izziisabouttoenditall
Summary: It's Tim's birthday and no one remembered.





	Forgettful

**Author's Note:**

> you can tell that im depressed

Tim sits, drunk, tired, and reflecting, in front of his computer, a whole stack of files that need to be finished, and a bloody pocket knife. This whole day has been shitty and tiring for the boy. It’s his birthday and he woke up later than usual. He spilled his coffee all over his shirt and ended up being late to work. He got yelled at by Bruce and at the end of the day, he got his car towed. Tim came home to see that he completely forgot all of his files at his office and ended up having to go back, on foot, because none of the cabs would stop for him. Then, to make it all even better, it started raining. He walked, by foot, in the rain to get his work. He got home with a wet stack of papers and took a shower. Tim didn’t get any phone calls about his birthday either, so it made him feel great, knowing that his supposed family didn’t remember his birthday. He got out of the shower and slipped in the bathroom, nearly hitting his head against the toilet seat. He begrudgingly got dressed and took out the ice cream cake in his freezer, only to remember that he has patrol with Bats and Robin. Tim rolled his eyes and left the cake out, forgetting that it’s made out of ice cream. He quickly changed out of his costume and made sure to get to the duo, a few minutes late.

“Where have you been, Red Robin?” Batman glares over at the late young adult.

“I was busy.” Tim growled back.

“Don’t speak to Father that way.” Robin spat at him.

“Did I ask for your goddamn opinion?” Tim asks back, venomously.

“Enough, Red Robin. Let’s get on with patrol.” Batman intervenes. Tim rolls his eyes and nods his head. They started their patrol and ended up having to intervene in a fight between two gangs. They fought their way to the leader, and Tim ended up being in the crossfire. He got shot right in the abdomen. Tim let out a loud swear and launched his birdarang at the guy, aiming for his neck. Batman quickly intercepted the weapons path and knocked out the guy with a punch. Tim growled in anger, and gripped his aching side.

“Were you trying to kill that man?” Batman asks, glaring at him.

“Maybe I was, what’s it to you?” Tim asks back with equal venom in his voice.

“Red Robin-“

“You know what, fuck you _Batman_, I’m fucking going home. You guys can patrol by yourselves.” Tim left without hearing Batman’s response, and this is where he is now. Tim managed to get home without passing out and pulled out the bullet with a pocket knife, he bandaged the wound and went into the kitchen for his cake, only to find it a melted mess. Tim yelled out in anger and took out a bottle of whiskey. He went back into his office room and changed into a pair of sweatpants and a tank top. Tim stared down at the dark lines decorating his arm and smiled. He chugged a quarter of the whiskey before using his hand to knock down all the papers on his desk.

Tim looked up at the mirror on his desk, “I’m sorry for breaking my promise, Alfred. I’m sorry for being a horrible son, Bruce. I’m sorry for not being a better brother, Dick. I’m sorry for replacing you, Jason. I’m sorry for being an asshole, Damian.” Tim stared at the small white carve lining his arm with a blank stare, before picking up the pocket knife and dragging it across the pale white skin of his arm. He started slowly, cutting enough to bring out blood, but not enough to kill him, then, the satisfaction of the actions, made him cut deeper and deeper. Soon, Tim was laying on the floor, a sick smile on his face. He looked up and finally closed his eyes before saying his final words, “Happy birthday, Timmy.

**Author's Note:**

> so as you can see, instead of updating the one story i promised to update. i decided to post this old thing i wrote a while ago.
> 
> follow my twitter: @ineedjeezus


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